


Echoes of Innocents

by Aesos



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Beslan Siege, Drinking, Implied Violence, M/M, Memories, Terrorism, painful memories, strong themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:02:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27758836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aesos/pseuds/Aesos
Relationships: Maxim "Kapkan" Basuda/Timur "Glaz" Glazkov
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Echoes of Innocents

The air was getting colder now, but it didn't bother Maxim in the slightest. The 'cold' here was nothing like it was back home. Still, only the puff of smoke from his cigarette betrayed that he was even out here.

Of course, someone else knew exactly where to find him.

The crunch of the branches betrayed the sniper's approach, and Maxim didn't need to turn to know who it was. But something struck him as odd; his pace was hurried. That made him turn his head.  


"What is wrong, dorogoy?" Max asked, exhaling his last puff out of the corner of his mouth before turning to look at Timur.

Timur pulled two bottles from behind his back. Empty vodka bottles.

"Maxim, these were full only two days ago." the younger of the pair pointed out, sounding both worried and annoyed. "You drink too much."

Ah. So that's what he was upset about.

“No more than Sasha does.” Maxim grunted, taking another pull at his cigarette.

“I am not dating Sasha.” Timur grumbled back, tossing the bottles to Maxim’s feet. “I am worried about you. Why do you have to drink so much?”

Maxim sighed and looked away. His cold stare was looking at nothing in particular, but it was fixed. His shoulders slumped and he exhaled slowly. “I am not fond of this time of year.”

Timur froze for a moment. The phrase ‘this time of year’ said everything, and he felt like an idiot for not thinking about it himself. September was only a week away; the anniversary of the Beslan siege. 

“I… I’m sorry.” Timur came and sat beside his lover, immediately leaning against him in silent support. The other still found most PDAs distasteful, but there wasn’t another soul in sight, this far out anyway. “I should have known. But vodka is not going to make the memories disappear. You really should talk about it.”

“I do not need to.” Maxim stated, rather forcefully.

“I understand.” Timur pulled back a bit, dismayed that Max wouldn’t talk to him. He hated that, for all the trust and love Maxim showed him, he still had this wall about that one thing. Timur wanted to help him, to give him an outlet to talk about it, not keep it bottled up. It only poisoned his soul, and that was the last thing Timur wanted.

He set his hand on the hunter’s thigh, just to be there.

Maxim looked down at the hand, then back to wherever it was he was staring. But then one of his rough hands reached over and set itself over top.

“I do not mean to sound harsh, especially to you. And there is a part of me that wants to talk about it. I just cannot find the words.” Maxim admitted, much to Timur’s surprise.

“I would say just start anywhere.” Timur suggested, thinking of the way he started to paint something. Pick a point of reference and just go.

“That is easier said than done, I am afraid.” Came the sullen response. His head tilted over to look at Timur, and the sniper could see the deep-seated pain; not in the way anyone could see, just Timur; it was in the hunter’s eyes.

“We are Spetsnaz. We are trained to be hard, unforgiving, and some would even call us ruthless. But beneath that cold exterior, are we allowed to have a heart?” Maxim asked, dropping his gaze for a moment. When he looked up, he couldn’t hold Timur’s gaze.

Timur reached out to take one of Maxim’s hands, and pulled it back over to sit over his leg, gripping it tightly. He didn’t expect anything in return, but Timur’s squeeze was returned. The sniper stayed quiet, hoping Maxim would continue.

“Children are supposed to feel safe. They are supposed to be cared for. Never in their life would they have expected to perish at the hands of those Chechen monsters.” Maxim spat, cursing the name. “Only the heartless would pick a target like a school. You can disagree with politics all you like, but there are some things that are plain reprehensible.”

Maxim went quiet then, his eyes closing as the memories surfaced. Hearing the parents call for their children’s release. Knowing the teachers were just as frightened as the children. Not knowing what armaments, the Chechens had, just waiting to release them on the unsuspecting hostages. Gunshots ringing blindly though the school grounds, and the screams that followed.

His grip on Timur’s hand tightened, and he didn’t notice until Timur spoke up. “Max, please… just breathe.” He urged, tugging his hand, but not removing it from the other’s grip.

“Sorry.” Maxim breathed, pursing his lips. Their solitude was the only reason why he’d said as much as he had. Here, he didn’t have to maintain any kind of bravado or uphold that uncaring Russian vibe. 

“There are times I can still hear the young ones, calling desperately for their parents, crying because they just wanted to go home. Many were not killed by the seperatists. Some…” He choked for a moment, and tried clearing his throat. “I had never truly felt fear until I heard those cries, Timur.”

Timur looked over at Maxim and leaned into him, wrapping an arm around him. He had no words, but he had plenty of sympathy and compassion for his boyfriend. 

“Those are the days I drink. I know it is not the right way, and Harry has tried to get me to talk about it as well. But the drinking is the only thing that lets me sleep without nightmares.” He admitted, wishing it weren’t that way.

The sniper pulled back, and looked up at Max. “Thank you… for trusting me.”

He knew Maxim wasn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Sure, he laughed and joked along with the others. But when it came to things like this, or even showing affection, it was hard to get anything from him. 

“I know you don’t like to talk about things like this, but I really wish you would tell me more. You know I will listen, and you know I won’t judge you for it.” Timur added, then let it sit between them.

“I know.” Maxim replied after a silent moment. “And I may share more… just not now.”

“That’s ok. You don’t have to.” Timur agreed, rubbing his thumb over the back of Maxim’s hand.

“I love you, Timur. For everything, no matter what.”

“I love you too, Maxim. No matter what.”


End file.
